Well, who knew? It appeared I was living on an island this whole time. There’s nothing but wild, untamed sea all around, and I can’t believe I was foolish enough to let myself hope. Of course escaping this god-awful place wouldn’t have been easy. There will always be obstacles.
But through the misty fog, I spy that distant land, and my heart skips.
There may still be hope for me.
If I jumped, I could swim my way across, but I was never a strong swimmer. Yet no matter how I look at it, I’m doomed. If I stay, I’m dead. If I leave, I’m dead. But at least there’s a slim chance if I took the leap of faith.
There comes a distant rumbling, and my eyes bulge when I recognize the blades of a helicopter.
Now is my chance.
I refuse to be a caged bird any longer. I was named after a bird, after all, and now this little dove is going to fly free.
Gathering up my courage, I creep out onto the ledge, staring down into the gray sea below. Spray flies up from its angry depths, sprinkling my face, and I take several deep breaths.
Just one jump and freedom will be mine.
Cold air whips my blonde hair, making it harder to see. My heart thuds against my chest as my arms and legs shake.
Just one jump, Dove. You can do it.
Closing my eyes against the biting wind, I count down until I make my great escape. But then a low whirring reaches my ears, and when I open them again, I meet the lens of a camera.
A drone. They found me.
The camera rotates, roving up and down my body, and bile lingers at the back of my throat. The perverted alpha on the other side is enjoying the show.
All I'm wearing is a thin white camisole. I don’t even have a bra to cover my modesty, and there’s no missing the way the camera lingers on my breasts.
My nipples poke through the cotton, and I grit my teeth against the freezing wind, saying loud enough for the alpha to hear. “G-go to hell…”
The drone hovers closer, and it’s now or never.
A sense of calm washes over me next. I close my eyes, spreading my arms like a dove as I freefall over the cliff. Wind rushes up over my ears, yetI don’t open my eyes again. I just brace for the impact.
I just hope there are no sharp rocks at the bottom.
Finally, the whipping wind ends, replaced by the cold, hard smack of the sea, and then I’m swept under the surface.
If I’m lucky, I may die before they find me.